


The wolf, the deer and the rabbit

by maevesdarling



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Established Relationship, First Kiss, First Meetings, M/M, Masks, Morning After, Naked Cuddling, Secret Crush, Shyness, Sleepy Cuddles, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 11:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17661620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maevesdarling/pseuds/maevesdarling
Summary: Arthur, Charles, a masquerade ball and a mysterious man in a rabbit mask, do I need to say more?(...)A man caught his attention. Standing in a group of people, he was talking loudly while motioning with both of his hands. Arthur crooked his head. The man wore a brown paper mask with ears on top that looked vaguely like a rabbit. Not the best mask he had seen tonight but also not the worst. (...)





	The wolf, the deer and the rabbit

**Author's Note:**

> I finally overcame my writers blockade so here is what I wrote to get myself back on track. Don't worry about my other works, I haven't forgotten about them and will try my best to get back to them asap!
> 
> Lots of love, maevesdarling

"Arthur!" Dutch's voice boomed through Shady Belle, instantly waking Arthur up from the nap he had been taking on his cot. 

The brunette outlaw scratched his back and hurried to get into his boots. A groan erupted from the still sleeping form of his partner. He and Charles had been out of camp for a couple of days to hunt and only had returned last evening, their saddlebags filled with enough meat to last the gang a couple of days. Charles had seemed satisfied and while the gang was feasting downstairs on the fresh meat, the couple had their own small celebration of sorts.

"Arthur? What's going on?" Charles asked sleepily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Dunno. Dutch's been calling my name for some time I better go see what all that fuss is about." He finished dressing and hurried out of the room. 

It was bright outside, probably around 11 but he couldn't be sure. Dutch's voice came from downstairs so Arthur rushed past a drunkenly passed out Uncle who lay at the bottom of the stairs and almost ran into Tilly who was just walking in from one of the many side entrances. "Sorry Tilly." The outlaw mumbled as he flew past and out through the main door, squinting his eyes against the bright sun outside. 

Hosea and Dutch were sitting on the front porch, Hosea was holding a cup of steaming coffee in his hands while Dutch was smoking on of his big cigars. By the way his jaw was clenched Arthur guessed they had been sitting there for a while.

He announced himself with a cough as not to startle the two older men. Hosea turned around in his seat with a small smile and handed him the coffee. "Here, careful it's still hot." He muttered. Dutch was still sitting in his own chair, ignoring Arthur. When he spoke up there was the hint of annoyance in his voice. "I see your finally awake." One of his hands fished for something on the ground while the other motioned for Arthur to come closer. "Here." He said and held two weird looking objects in front of Arthur's face. 

It took the outlaw a moment to realize what it was. "What the hell Dutch! I told you I'm not playing dress up games no more." He lamented, pushing the paper masks away. "Well, while you and Charles were out strolling through Lemoyne, Hosea and I managed to get ourselves invited to a masquerade ball." 

Arthur rolled his eyes at his leaders words. "We weren't-'

"Please Arthur, just take them. We'll need a capable shooter if things go south." Hosea asked gently and then added. "Besides, it'll be nice to bring Charles to a ball, don't you think?" The old conman had the audacity to wink at him. Arthur huffed and turned the masks in his hand. They were made out of simple paper with strings at the back. One was painted in grey and white colours, made to resemble a wolf, the other one was a bit more complicated, chestnut colored with faux antlers it was made to look like a deer. A loopsided smile appeared on Arthur's face as he took the masks in. "Fine, we'll be coming. Who else are we taking?"

Dutch took a long drag from his cigar and puffed out the smoke facing away from Hosea, clearly not wanting to send the older man into a coughing fit. "Well, Hosea, you, Charles and I thought maybe Micah." Arthur groaned. He could feel Hosea tensing next to him. "Not Micah. Please Dutch, I'm begging you don't let this fool come with us." But Dutch didn't listened. "I'm sorry son, but he's capable with a gun and managed to keep a low profile in Saint Denise." Hosea opened his mouth to reply something but then decided against it. 

"Fine. I'll go talk to Charles." The brunette grumbled.

That evening the two men walked outside dressed in their best clothes. For Charles it was a dark green waistcoat and a black vest underneath, all topped off with a crisp white shirt and a red bowtie. The coat was a tad bit too small on his arms but he hoped it wouldn't show. Arthur was wearing a dark blue, almost black coat with a navy colored tie, there was a bloodstain on one of his coat pockets that he tried to rub away hastily. He was nervously fidgeting with the mask in his hand. 

Both Dutch and Hosea were already outside waiting for them. Dutch was rummaging through his saddlebag, arguing with Hosea. "I told you I didn't lost it! I had it in my bag when we left Blackwater."

"You sure about that? We can still go and get another one if you-"

"Got it!" The gang leader pulled out a shiny, golden object and held it in front of Hosea's face triumphantly. The older man took it and raised it up to his face. "How are you supposed to see a thing through these holes?"

Dutch snatched the mask from him and strapped it to his face. It was a beautiful solid golden mask, adorned with a single ruby on the forehead, looking like a lion. Dutch had stolen it some time before Blackwater when they robbed the house of an oil tycoon. Arthur had to admit his surrogate father looked rather stunning wearing the mask. 

Hosea rubbed a hand over his face. "Fine, you win. Ah, Arthur! Charles!" He waved them over. "Ready for the big night?"

"Sure. Where's Micah?"

"He went ahead to scout out the place. I reckon we'll meet him soon enough." The conman sounded unhappy as he said that. Arthur's hand landed on the hidden gun in his suit jacket. He was sure he was going to need it before the night was over.

They saddled the horses and rode the short distance to Saint Denis, coming to a halt in front of a fancy looking manor. It wasn't as pompous as Angelo Bronte's manor but it was close.

Outside, they hitched the horses just down the street and walked up the short flight of stairs that led to the front door. "Alright, masks on." Dutch commanded after flashing the invitation to the butler standing at the front door. The man nodded them through and they reached a big foyer, with a gigantic chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Dutch, who had already put on his mask motioned them to come closer.

"Remember, try to stay low. Get some informations about Angelo Bronte, potential Robberies, whatever it is you find and" He added towards Hosea. "Your allowed to pickpocket, but don't get yourself caught." He warned to which Hosea waved him off.

"When was the last time I got caught?" The man with the fox mask on his face demanded to know. Dutch snickered and patted him on the shoulder. "Let's get something to drink, shall we?"

They left Arthur and Charles to themselves who stood a bit awkwardly in the foyer, not knowing what to do with themselves. Charles looked especially uncomfortable and Arthur realized that the half native american had never been to a ball before. They were lucky everyone was wearing masks and therefore he wouldn't be sticking out too much, with his dark skin and long black hair that was braided over his shoulder. 

"You want something to drink?" Arthur started, scratching the back of his head. Charles took in the room with big eyes and nodded. "Sure, I could use a drink." 

They spend the next hour or so in the big garden behind the manor, a glass of champagne in their hands. There was music and dancing and lots of people to listen to. So far they had gotten a few good leads to a stagecoach coming from Annesburg in a few days that would bring some expensive jewelry to be sold in Saint Denis. It wasn't big but they could sell the jewelry. 

He only saw the rest of their group once. Dutch and Hosea were on the stage close to the center of the garden, their hands interwined as they danced gracefully to the music. Hosea leaned over to whisper something into Dutch's ear. The older man giggled and then spun the older conman. He reached out and grabbed the pocket watch of another dancer, a boring looking fella with a solid white mask that covered his entire face and made it hard for him to see what was going on. Hosea was quick, with long practised movements. An outsider would have trouble seeing the watch disappear in his coat pocket, but Arthur had years of experience. 

A man caught his attention. Standing in a group of people, he was talking loudly while motioning with both of his hands. Arthur crooked his head. The man wore a brown paper mask with ears on top that looked vaguely like a rabbit. Not the best mask he had seen tonight but also not the worst. 

"And then the wolves charged at us!" The man said when Arthur came into earshot. A few people gasped loudly and a woman asked. "And what did you do, Albert?"

Albert! Arthur's eyes went wide. Albert Mason, the wildlife photographer? He had figured the man had packed his bags and left for New York. He hadn't expected to see him again. "What is it, Arthur?" Charles snuck up from behind and whispered close to the brunette outlaw's ear. 

"Just somebody I know."

"Are we in for some trouble?" Charles asked carefully, one of his hands grasped the gun hidden in his jacket. "No, no not at all. He's harmless. Helped him with taking some photos of wild animals. He's a- a conservationist I think." Albert had finished his story about the wolves in the meantime and was walking towards them in the hopes to get himself a drink. "What's on your mind, Arthur?" Charles asked in such a low voice, it send shivers down his spine. 

"Dunno, would you like to meet him? Could be fun, I think you'll like him." Charles nodded. "Sure." 

They reached Albert right as the man was filling himself a glass of champagne. "Mister Mason!" He called out towards the photographer who startled slightly but managed not to spill his drink. "My lord, Mister Morgan? Is that you?" Arthur nodded but didn't dared to lift his mask. After all the rule was strictly not to take them off so he wasn't planning on breaking the rules. "It's me, allow me to introduce my- my partner, Charles Smith." Charles froze next to him. Arthur knew it was incredibly risky to call Charles his partner but for some reason he felt like he could trust Albert.

Albert held out his hand and when he spoke there was a smile in his voice. "Albert Mason, it's a pleasure to meet you." He leaned in closer. "So, your keeping an eye on this big scrawny guy?"

"Well actually I think that Charles-" Arthur started but Albert stopped him. "I was actually talking to your partner." That send all three of them into a laughing fit and broke the ice between Charles and Albert who spend at least twenty minutes getting to know each other. Arthur stood besides and watched his friend and his partner talking. Charles started to relax around the photographer and told the story how he got Taima, snatched her from a group of poachers when she was a foal, her herd long gone. He had nursed her back to health and she became the closest thing to a family he had. Albert listened with a smile on his face. He pulled out a handful of photographs and showed them to Charles, making sure to point out all the ones Arthur helped him to shoot. 

Maybe he shouldn't have let his guard down. Arthur knew it was a mistake, considering that Micah was spooking around on the property. 

The first shot came from the house, startling all three of them. Albert was slow to catch up, not used to hear the sound of gunshots. Arthur and Charles were quicker and had pulled the photographer behind a table as soon as the second gunshot rang through the air. 

The garden exploded into screaming and chaos. People tried to get away and fell over or on top of each other, others were hit by stray bullets. When Arthur rose above the table, gun in his hand, to see what was going on, he spotted Micah on a balcony of the upper floor, he was wearing a bandana, no mask to hide his face, Arthur guessed he hadn't worn one in the first place. 

The blonde outlaw was fighting two bulky men with a knife, wielding it like a mainac. He burried the knife deep in one of his attackers throat, blood splattering his face. Arthur decided he didn't needed any help and let his eyes wander again. A bullet whizzed past him and he quickly ducked before shooting a couple of bullets into the vague direction of the attackers. Hosea and Dutch were gone, but the faint whistling of lawmen made it clear that it was time to go.

They grabbed a shaking Albert and hurried out of the garden by jumping a fence. The ground was littered with bodies and navigating through them turned out to be a challenge. The first one to jump the fence was Charles, he used his strong arms to lift himself up and landed gracefully on his feet. Next came Albert who flopped down rather clumsily and landed in the mud on the other side with an audible "oof". 

Arthur was the last one to go, just like Charles, he lifted himself up and jumped just as the first lawman entered the garden.

The opposite side was muddy and smelled of the dirty bayou water. The horses stood where they had left them, their ears perked up, alerted by all the noises coming from the villa. "The- the city will be in l-lockdown... I got an apartment." Albert studdered still shaking. He climbed into the saddle behind Arthur, his hands holding steadily onto the other man's middle. It made Arthur's skin tingle. 

They galloped through the shallow streets, trying to avoid being seen. Outside the apartment, Albert told them to hitch the horses in the backyard. "Will be safer." He mumbled. He was right of course and so they manoeuverd the two horses into the backyard and hitched them by a tree. It was actually a really nice looking backyard, with a couple of trees and benches standing around. Albert motioned for them to follow him upstairs before he unlocked the door. It wasn't a big apartment, just a living room with a small sofa in it, the walls littered with photographs, next came a tiny kitchen and two other rooms, bedrooms, Arthur guessed. The apartment was already small for just one person, but it would do for the night.

They shuffled in, utterly exhausted. Arthur and Charles flopped down on the small couch while Albert went into the kitchen to get them something to drink. To Arthur's surprise did he return with a bottle of whiskey. Just the bottle, not even a set of glasses. "I'm sorry." The photographer unscrewed the bottle and took a long drag. "I just really needed this right now." He put a hand to his face and suddenly realized his mask was still on, just like Arthur's and Charles ones. "Huh." He frowned and pulled it off in a swift motion and the other two men followed. The could hear Albert audibly gasp when Charles face was revealed. "Oh my- your… your so handsome." He took another sip from the whiskey before handing it towards Arthur who gingerly took a sip. It was good whiskey, pretty strong, but maybe that was exactly what they needed right now. After another sip he handed the bottle to Charles who nearly declined. 

"We shouldn't." He warned Arthur. "I know. But it'll be good for your nerves." His partner reassured. Charles nodded and lifted the bottle up to his mouth. When he pulled away, a single drop escaped from his mouth and rolled down his chin. Before he had the chance to wipe it away, Arthur leaned in, slightly tipsy from the alcohol, and licked the droplet away. Charles let out a startled groan as he set the bottle away. 

He turned his head to leave a kiss on Arthur's chapped lips. With the adrenaline still buzzing through his veins, kissing Charles felt even better and he opened his mouth hungrily. They kissed for a couple of moments until Albert made a noise in the back of his throat. Only then did Arthur remember that they weren't alone.

They hastily pulled apart, waiting for Albert to throw them out into the street or something similar. Fuck, fuck, fuck Arthur thought mentally cursing himself, thinking he had stepped too far. The photographer watched them with big round eyes, a blush visibly creeping up his neck. And then Arthur realized. Albert wasn't disgusted, he was aroused. 

"I'm sorry, I- Please excuse me." He got up so hastily he flipped the chair he had been sitting on over. "God damnit I'm such a mess, excuse me, please." 

The pair exchange concerned looks and followed Albert into the kitchen. "Hey, no need to apologise. It's okay, you know, to feel that way." They tried not to corner Albert who was already spooked enough and tried not to meet their eyes. "No, it's not okay. I- God, when I saw you two I tried to imagine myself in that situation." Arthur crooked his head slightly. "And?"

The photographer took a deep breath, his shoulders slumbed. "And I couldn't even decide which one of you I'd like to kiss." He admitted. 

The two men shared a look. Arthur raised an eyebrow in question which earned a simple nod from Charles. They weren't used to inviting other people into their bed, but they both liked Albert. A lot.

"Then don't pick one of us." Arthur purred, lifting Albert's chin with his fingers. The photographers mouth fell open. "I- I don't understand."

"We'll show you." Charles agreed, his arm slung around Arthur's waist. The first kiss was light, Arthur was merely testing the waters. 

He cradled one of his strong hands in the photographers soft hair and pulled his head back to gain better access, kissing a trail down from his plush, dark red lips to his adams apple. Albert shivered, he was visibly struggling to stand on his own two legs. "Bedroom?" Arthur asked softly. The photographer nodded hastily and led them into a small but cozy room. The bed was hardly big enough for the three of them but Arthur and Charles had managed worse.

They got out of their clothes, leaving them discarded on the ground, and jumped into bed. Albert was eager and let himself be guided between the two much stronger men. They took turns in kissing the photographer on his lips until he turned to putty in their hands, his lips kiss swollen, a couple of bruises on his throat and collarbone. Not big enough to last longer than a day through, they weren't stupid after all. 

Minutes turned into hours as their bodies seemingly turning into one as they moved against each other in their passionate love making. The room was filled with low moans and occasional grunts, low enough that the neighbors wouldn't hear them but loud enough that it drove Arthur crazy. 

At some point he's sitting against the headboard, watching Charles spreading Albert out on the bed. Their skins have a beautiful contrast, stark white against mahogany coloured skin. He thinks about getting his journal to draw them. Memorize this moment, but he can't find it in himself to move. Too fascinated by the little mewls Albert makes whenever Charles is pressing a kiss against his heated skin. He leaned down and stretched out his arm until it was touching Arthur's hip and tugged lightly to pull him closer. 

Arthur smiled sheepishly and moved over to him, his lips latched onto Charles strong abs and sucked lightly. "Oh!" Charles shivered when he felt Arthur's hand gliding south.

The sun woke Arthur up later. He couldn't tell how much time had passed but he guessed it was around 12.

He was nestled between both of his lovers. Charles inkblack hair was unkempt and had fallen into his face. The older outlaw grinned at the sight and softly moved the strands of long black hair out of his partners face.

There was a low murmur and when he turned to the other side he saw Albert, his body hanging dangerously close to the edge of the bed. He grabbed him by the arm and pulled him up until he was practically on top of the outlaw, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck. "Arthur." A soft voice asked. 

He made a low humming noise. "We should leave soon." Charles rumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "I know." He stared lovingly into Albert's soft face and thought of the possibilities. Of Albert joining them in the gang. Of songs around the campfire and passionate lovemaking in their own tent and hunting trips together (Albert joining to take photos of the local fauna.) And he realized how much the photographer would stick out and so he crossed that thought out of his mind. No, Albert belonged to the city. 

"Alright let's get going." He agreed and moved the taller man off of him and onto the bed. They got dressed hastily, clothes rustling as they gathered them off the ground. 

Just as they were about to head out, they heard Albert clear his throat. The brunette was still lying on his bed, but his eyes were open and fixed on the two men. "We're you planning on leaving without even saying goodbye?" He lost some of his nervousness during the night, Arthur noticed, his posture was relaxed, long limbs partially hidden by the cream colored blanket. "We wasn't-" 

He got up, wrapping the thin sheets around his body, and gave both of them a quick peck on the cheek. "Sure you don't want to stay for breakfast?" He proposed with a sparkle in his dark brown eyes. 

The pair of outlaw's shared a look. After a long pause Arthur decided to answer. "I'm actually starving." Arthur said, rubbing his hand over his stomach to show how hungry he was. Charles opened his mouth to disagree, but then he changed his mind. "Breakfast sounds wonderful." 

"Great, just give me ten minutes and I'll fix us something." The word 'us' made Arthur's stomach tingle. He kinda wished that Albert would take his time with cooking breakfast.


End file.
